Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (30 page)

She
had room three, it was on the first floor, making it room thirteen. She nearly
traded off with one of the others, just because of the number, but no one here
had that particular superstition, and she didn't want to start it as going
around. Instead she took the room, and was a bit less than impressed when she
got inside.

Speaking
to herself, Gwen let her head hang for a bit.

"Two
mets per night? I think we're being gouged." It wasn't a great place after
all. Then, it was two mets for three people, each with their own room, and
meals were included. Not that she was eating there. That was... Nearly a met
per day right there though, if the food was decent. Then thirty cents or so per
person for each day?

It
was still high, but less than she'd been thinking.

The
room had no particular scent at least, and while the bedspread was old and well
worn, it was just faded from frequent washing, and not crispy with fluids that
she didn't want to know the origin of, or anything disgusting like that. It was
all she could do to arrange things properly. She carried her bags to the bath
at the end of the hall, and showered, even though there was a very large and
lovely tub there too. It was a giant thing, made of enamel and metal, with
clawed feet on it, all in white. She had to stand in it, as the water power
washed the flesh from her bones. It was hot though, and there was nice strong
soap.

It
took nearly an hour to wash, scrub, and repeat enough times for her to feel
clean again. Part of that was simply the mustiness of travel that stuck in her
mind, as well as the internal stink of fear and anger. Both of those were hers.
She'd been so afraid, the whole time they were on the train. At any moment she
expected an attack to come. For Carter to come up with some kind of magical
weapon, or Sally to have gotten a message out, sending for rescue. Or for a
monster to rip its way through the void to get at them.

Nothing
had happened at all, and they hadn't even spoken very much, except to ask if
they could use the pot in the corner of the room. That part had been
embarrassing for them, but Gwen hadn't wanted them to have any chance to get
away at all. She's barely gone to the restroom herself either. She and Beth
took turns though, using the real facilities when they needed to.
They
weren't the prisoners after all.

Then,
putting on her sleep wear, which was a nightgown, she walked back to her room,
locked the door and turned the light off, one of the two Crin she had with her
laying alongside her in the bed. It was a bit lumpy, but she hardly noticed
that at all, sleeping until a soft knock came, as light peeked through the
window.

Too
early, really, since she'd wanted to sleep until she couldn't anymore, but she
stood and spoke to the door, instead of just opening it. There was no peephole.
She hadn't invented that yet.

"Who's
there?" She made her voice light and pleasant sounding, in case it was
someone she knew.

"Bethany.
I've got our orders."

It
sounded like her, except for the part where she was awake for the day already.
That made Gwen slightly suspicious, but it wasn't a real thing. Beth was just
better at sleeping in emergency situations than she was, and had actually
gotten about eight hours a day on the train. Gwen had dozed a few times, but
couldn't relax enough for it to really do the trick. That meant she was fuzzy
and felt ready to stumble as soon as she took a step, but her buddy was
probably a lot closer to fine.

Opening
the door, she looked it too.

The
witch.

She
was perky, pretty and already made up for the day, and here it was... what?
Gwen looked at the Detective and growled.

"Do
you know what time it is?"

"Um,
ten-thirty or there about?" There was no real response to the harshness of
Gwen's words, so Beth was let in and the door closed behind her. Not locked,
but they weren't really in a situation that called for that, were they? Not
anymore.

"So,
orders?"

"Well,
as they are. We should be picked up in about an hour. James is coming for us,
and has been driving all night to get here. The other option was waiting two
days for the next train. The whole line has been disrupted, since the family
has been grabbing all of the conspirators they can find. We still haven't
worked up to the top, but we've gotten twenty-two of them. Fifteen alive. It's
just a matter of questioning them all now, I bet. So far no one knows much
though." She yawned, and covered it with a lightly patting hand. "So,
it's back to Park Street for us. There's an issue there."

The
tone was light, but Gwen stiffened. She couldn't imagine what the problem would
be, but before she could say so, Beth grinned.

"It's
really all your fault you know. First you go and save most of the world's
leaders,
then
you invite them to a party. The King
and
The Marduk
have already agreed to come, by the way. The Empress of the Chinoise has
declined, but has made a counter invitation for you and the Vernors, after her
health returns. Nothing out of that stuffed shirt from Europa though. I'm fine
with that one, but the invitation went out I hear. There's more, I gather, but
it seems that this is going to be something of an event."

Gwen
nodded, surprised, but not really caring all that much, stifling her own yawn.

"Cool.
Let me get dressed and slap on some make-up. Can you get Clara around? If she
isn't already, I mean?"

"I
woke her first. She mentioned something about being mildly hungry? We all
skipped the meal here. I'm sure it's wonderful, normally, but the man rather
planned something foul for our supper. I won't tell you what, since we should
probably leave him alive, but I can't say that I'm going to be recommending the
place to anyone."

Gwen
didn't bother thinking about it. People could be sick bastards, from time to
time. It was probably a lot worse than she knew too. At least she had Bethany
to clue her in now. As long as they were together. Otherwise she'd just have to
eat the crap, or
semen
, that she was fed, wouldn't she?
It wasn't
something that she wanted to dwell on, so she just waited for Beth to clear her
room, changed into her last bit of clean clothing, which was a rather nice
dress that she hadn't had occasion to wear yet, and painted her face carefully.

Then
she pulled two mets and carried everything down to the lobby, to find a
different man at the desk. This one was younger, being about twenty or so, and
wore the same basic outfit as the man from the night before, but actually had a
smile to go along with it.

"Ah!
The guests. Did you sleep well Miss?" He seemed to actually mean it, in a
professional way, if nothing else, so she nodded.

"I
did, thank you. I was told it would be two mets?" She waited for him to
spring the trap on her, and claim it was two each, but he didn't, just writing
out a bill of sale for all three rooms and all the meals that they didn't have.

"Please
come again!" The voice was so earnest that she sort of wished they'd come
in to find this one, instead of the other desk clerk. Then, if that had
happened, they probably would have gotten the old man as they were leaving,
which would have ruined her day.

The
others joined her, along with their own bags, and all of them were in dresses
now. Beth having changed. She looked more businesslike than Gwen did.
Professional and ready for the next case. Even Clara looked more ready to
actually work than she did. It was a curse, being an heiress. She smiled at the
thought and carried her things outside to wait. She was hungry too, but she
didn't want to go inside anywhere, just in case James came while they were
inside eating. They could grab some bread and cheese to eat on the road.

The
wait could have been a long one, but for once it wasn't, and James pulled up in
front of the place almost exactly at the same time they walked out.

"James!"
She waved to him, but the man was busy operating the little white Lorrie, so he
didn't answer, until the thing was safely stopped.

Hopping
down, he took the bags, smiling.

"Miss
Farris. I trust that your mission went well?" He looked tired, but not so
much that he was about to fall over. His face was weathered from his work,
since no one had really gotten the idea that Lorrie drivers could be out of the
elements. The day was already warm and bright, and he was in a light shirt for
him, rather than a full suit with a jacket and top hat.

"Yes.
James, this is Clara. She's my new maid. She's also going to be trying for the
Chargers Union." Gwen left out anything about her past. She could tell
James about that herself. Or not. "Do we need to recharge the crystal for
the drive motivator yet?"

James
was practical, if nothing else and nodded.

"I
was going to see about that myself, Miss, but if we have a professional, that
might be for the best. It would take me at least seven hours."

Bethany
took over then, being a bossy Westmorland, that thought everyone in the world
should be used to superhuman work levels. It was one of her charms, Gwen
decided. It might be a lot to live up to, but it also showed a lot of faith in
the people around her.

"I
believe that Clara can do it in about an hour and a half. Shall we begin? She
and I can stay here for that, while you and Gwen procure some coffee? Perhaps
some rolls?"

Gwen
looked at Clara, who seemed nervous, but smart enough to move into place where
Beth was pointing, at the front of the vehicle. Part of that was pure awe
though. The little Lorrie was sort of a big deal. Other people were looking at
it too, and several drivers craned their necks around as they passed in their
slow and giant delivery vehicles. Almost no one had their own, after all, and
one like this was special. It was like someone had driven a Ferrari up and just
left it on the street.

"On
it. Let's try down here?" There seemed to be several shops at least. James
walked along side of her, his eyes scanning the buildings, as if he were ready
to fight. That was just him. He'd never mentioned it, but it was clear to her
that he was her bodyguard, as well as driver. The man had worked for the
Vernors for years too, watching their daughter. When she'd
let
him,
which wasn't often. The thing there was that Gwen didn't really need a bodyguard
in particular.

If
anyone attacked her, they'd either be taken out very quickly, by her, or they'd
be an overwhelming force that James wouldn't be a lot of help with. Not that
the man wasn't hard, big and tough. Probably armed too, though she'd never seen
him with more than a stick. It was just the nature of things in her world. It
would be either a band of super-soldiers coming for her, magicians at least, or
else it would be some two-bit petty criminal that should have realized that
kidnapping her wasn't going to earn him a lot of ransom money anyway.

It
didn't hurt to have extra eyes though, and if there were mashers about, he'd
scare them off. Not that it would save them a beating. James wouldn't put up
with things like that at all, Gwen was willing to bet.

They
didn't rush, heading to nearly half a dozen little shops in order to get enough
food to sustain them for the trip. It would take about six hours of riding,
since they were about a hundred and fifteen miles away from Park Street. That
would be boring, no doubt, but it was the nature of things. Apparently getting
them back home wasn't enough of an emergency to warrant them getting
teletransport spheres.

When
they finally got back to the little Lorrie Clara was still hard at work, and
Beth was watching her intently. The woman did take a flask of coffee however.
It was really a ceramic jug with a stopper. Gwen had purchased eight of them,
along with fresh fruit and some sweet rolls, which were tiny things that almost
didn't have sugar in them. Without waiting, the coffee was passed to the one
doing the actual work, and the new maid managed to sort of keep going while she
drank it. It wasn't all that hot, Gwen realized, drinking from her own bottle.

Beth
pointed at the large crystal.

"Focus.
Don't lose it. You're doing very well."

It
was pretty positive, really, coming from a Westmorland. It worked too, and the
slow woman kept going, her eyes narrowing. Half an hour later, she was
finished, and Beth checked the work for her. Then James did. It showed a high
level of training, since that might be considered an insult by some people.

"Thank
you, Miss Clara. Saved a lot of time. Let's get on the road, if that's the
plan?" He looked at the other two, but then focused on her, since, she
was, after all, the boss. Or at least the boss's daughter, after a fashion.

"Yeah,
let's go."

Clara
started to climb up on top, but Beth patted her shoulder.

"No,
Clara, in here, with us. We have some food."

That
wasn't the woman being slow, which Beth explained to her, by letting Clara know
what the score was.

"The
Vernor's servants generally don't ride up top, unless there's no space for them
inside. They don't even make the Westmorlands do that."